


The Flu

by spoowriterfic



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 19:44:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16667107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoowriterfic/pseuds/spoowriterfic
Summary: Nicole doesn't really like to need others, so when she has the flu, she makes sure to let Nedley know, which eventually means everyone at the station knows -- except Waverly. But Waverly is smart and soon enough, she's able to put two and two together.





	The Flu

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second story spawned by my previous story "The Sun is Just Around the Corner," though only in a very peripheral way. In that story, Nicole reminds Waverly of the time she took care of Nicole when she had the flu, so...well, I had to write it, obviously.
> 
> The timeline for this isn't super important but it's set between seasons 2 and 3.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Jeremy asked in a vague, distracted voice as he looked up from a microscope.

“Uh…research? On revenants? And Bulshar?”

“Oh. I just thought….” Jeremy trailed off with a confused frown, then shrugged and handed over a notepad. “Okay. Can you see what you can find about this demon? I shouldn’t be seeing these DNA markers on something that’s nocturnal, but Dolls swears it only hunts at night.”

“…okay.”

Perhaps an hour later, she’d already moved onto Jeremy’s next puzzle when Lonnie came into the office to bring him a file from Nedley. He did a double take when he saw Waverly. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“What?”

“Well, I just thought – I mean, never mind. Nedley says to come yourself if you need anything else,” he added to Jeremy, “since we’re short-staffed today.”

Dolls came in a little later, looking as harried as his usual stoicism allowed. “Hey, Wynonna needs some more bullets and – ” He frowned. “What are you doing here?”

At this point, Waverly wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about all this. Should she be amused? Hurt? Or just confused? “Working?”

Dolls shrugged, grabbed a package of bullets and a few other supplies, and was gone before either Waverly or Jeremy could ask what the hell was going on.

Doc and Wynonna came in an hour or so later, Doc looking smug and Wynonna looking frazzled. “I’m telling you, you didn’t have to do that. I could have gotten them.”

“Maybe,” Doc allowed, then he frowned in Waverly’s direction. “Do not take this the wrong way,” he said, “but – ”

“But what am I doing here?” Waverly interrupted, a touch irritated. “I’m starting to wonder. In fact…” She stood up decisively. “…I’m going to get some lunch. See you all later.”

 She poked her head into Nedley’s office to see if he wanted her to bring him anything. “Sure. Chicken sandwich would be….” He trailed off and frowned. “Wait. What are _you_ doing here?”

“Okay, I give up. Why does everyone keep asking me that today?”

Nedley shifted uneasily in his seat and made a vague gesture towards the front desk where Nicole often did her paperwork when she got restless sitting down at her own desk. “Well, I just figured that since…I mean, since Officer Haught is sick, I though you might….”

“She’s sick?! I figured she was just out on patrol! Why didn’t you tell me she was….” She collected herself with a sigh. “Right. Sorry. Rain check on lunch? I think I’ll go to the drug store instead and….” Waverly walked away, muttering mostly to herself, but she stopped at BBD on her way out. “You are _all_ in trouble for not telling me my girlfriend is sick!” she announced, then turned on her heel and left without waiting for a response.

She took a small amount of pleasure from the frantic chorus of overlapping variations on “I thought _you_ told her!” that she left in her wake.

As she marched towards her Jeep, she pulled out her phone and texted Nicole: **“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”**

She got no immediate answer.

She told herself not to worry – that Nicole was probably most likely just napping off a cold – but she couldn’t stop herself from pulling to the side of the road two blocks away from the station to add: **“What’s wrong, sweetie? What is it?”**

This time, the response was almost immediate: **Flu.**

Waverly frowned. **“Stomach flu or flu-flu?”**

There was another long pause; her phone didn’t chime again until she was parked outside the drug store. The answer was one simple word that explained the long pauses between replies and carried with it a world of misery: **“Yes.”**

Waverly touched that one word as though she could send her love through the screen. **“My poor baby** , **”** she wrote. **“I’ll be there soon**. **”**

Another almost immediate reply: **“No. Don’t do that. You’ll catch it.”**

Well, that explained why she had apparently told everyone _else_ that she was sick while Waverly had been blissfully in the dark. **“I’ll be there soon, sweetie. Just hang on for me, okay?”**

Another long pause; she’d gone through the whole drug store, collecting tissues, cold medicine, stomach medicine, ginger ale, crackers, and, on a whim, an adorable stuffed blue iguana she’d found in the toy aisle, and was just sliding her debit card into the chip reader when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She had to work hard to keep her face neutral in front of the cashier when she read Nicole’s answer: **“I don’t deserve you.”**

She forced herself to wait until she was done paying and walking back to her Jeep before she replied, **“Baby, you deserve *everything*.”**

She had just parked outside of Nicole’s house when her phone chimed one last time: **“I don’t know about that, but I do know I’m the luckiest girl in Purgatory.”**

Waverly didn’t often use the key Nicole had given her unless she was stopping by to feed Calamity Jane, but she didn’t want to make her get up if she was comfortable where she was, so she slipped inside without knocking. “Hey, sweetie,” she called. “I think the luckiest girl in Purgatory is me, actually.”

She found Nicole shivering on her couch, buried under a Waverly-sized pile of blankets, one trashcan next to her, already half full of tissues, and another closer to her head that she had clearly been using for more uncomfortable purposes. “Oh, baby,” Waverly said, putting down the bag of medications and rushing to Nicole’s side. She sat next to her on the couch and stroked her sweat-soaked hair. “You’re burning up.”

Nicole looked up at her. Her eyes were a little glazed and it was apparent that she was processing things very slowly but after a second, she frowned and said, “No, I’m…I’m freezing. I was hot about…ten minutes ago? I’m sure I’ll be hot again though.” She sneezed, then coughed, then went positively green. Waverly was almost impressed; she had never realized that was anything more than a saying. Nicole clutched the second trashcan for a few long moments before she relaxed and collapsed back onto her pillow. “Progress,” she grunted.

“Oh?”

“Every time I started coughing this morning, I threw up. It’s been…not fun.” She looked around in confusion. “What time is it?”

“Just after lunch.”

Nicole winced. “No food words. Please.” But she worked one hand out from under her pile of blankets and took the hand Waverly held out. Her fingers were shaking and freezing cold. “You didn’t have to come.”

Waverly leaned down to press a light kiss onto Nicole’s forehead. “Don’t be dumb. What can I do for you, sweetie?”

A long moment passed before Nicole opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted by another coughing spell that left her gasping and leaning over the side of the couch just in case. Waverly was rubbing her back when she felt all the muscles suddenly jump and then Nicole was dry-heaving into the second trash can. When she was done, a new layer of sweat had broken out at her temples and she impatiently pushed the blankets off her body. “Who turned up the heat?” she mumbled, only half-coherent, then she looked up at Waverly and winced. “I’m sorry. We haven’t been together long enough for you to have to see that.”

Waverly chuckled. “Sweetie, have you _met_ Wynonna? Vomit doesn’t even phase me anymore.” She stroked Nicole’s arm. “Why don’t you go back to bed?”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

Nicole winced again. “I, uh…when I woke up….” She trailed off and began to cough again, then began shivering again; she hastily pulled the blankets back over herself. “I took some cold medicine in the middle of the night, then I woke up feeling sick. So I took some Pepto thinking the cold medicine upset my stomach. Bad plan.”

Waverly had a feeling she knew where this was headed. “Okay, hey, it’s okay. I’ll just go put your sheets in the wash and make up your bed for you, okay?”

“Waverly, thank you, but I love you too much to let you clean pink vomit off my bed. I’m okay here.”

Waverly smiled despite herself; she couldn’t help it. Nicole’s ‘I love yous’ were always so spontaneous – sweet and sincere. She had always tried to avoid comparing her relationship with Nicole with the one she’d had with Champ, but in this one area it was very hard not to. Champ’s 'I love yous,' as infrequent as they had been, had always sounded slightly forced, uncomfortable – like he knew he was supposed to say it at certain times but couldn’t quite muster up the sincerity it deserved.

But with Nicole, more often than not, it was like the words themselves chose to be said – like she hadn’t really consciously even meant to say them at all. They just slipped out, sincere and forthright and so like Nicole.

“Hey. You’re sick and I care about you and I want you to be comfortable.” Nicole sighed. “Besides, I don’t care if it’s pink. Remember the day Shorty’s had its one-dollar margarita special? Turns out Wynonna really likes strawberry margaritas.”

Nicole rubbed her eyes and groaned. “I didn’t need to know that about your sister.” Her eyes began to droop closed and Waverly soothingly stroked her hair until she fell asleep.

She tucked the stuffed iguana under Nicole’s hand to keep her company and kissed her on the cheek.

Then she got up and got to work.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The first thing on her list had been to find Calamity Jane – although Calamity was often aloof with strangers, she’d long ago accepted Waverly as part of the family, and the fact that she hadn’t gotten a greeting had been worrying.

Then she found the cat curled up next to the discarded pillow on the floor next to Nicole’s bed. She’d looked up when Waverly came inside and meowed worriedly, rubbing her face against the pillow as though to tell her, ‘something’s wrong with my human; you know, the one who uses this thing?’

“She’ll be okay,” Waverly said, smiling as she knelt to pet the cat. She’d never really considered herself a cat person, but now that she’d spent some time around one, she realized most of the things she’d thought she’d known about cats had been complete lies.

Calamity wasn’t aloof or uncaring – she just showed her worry in a very feline way.

She stroked Calamity’s head again, watching as the cat sighed and leaned against the pillow again.

She shook her head with a fond smile. “I promise, CJ. She’ll be okay. I’ll take care of her.”

She had organized all the supplies from the drug store, stripped the soiled sheets and comforter from Nicole’s bed and started the washing machine running, and was in the middle of re-making Nicole’s bed when she heard her throwing up again downstairs.

“Hey,” Waverly said when she was done, “I was hoping you’d get some more sleep.”

Nicole chuckled mirthlessly, glancing at the clock she’d forgotten about earlier as she curled back into a fetal position. “Half an hour. It’s actually a record for this morning.” She moaned and rubbed her stomach.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“There’s nothing…I keep trying to….”

“Your stomach’s cramping up because there’s nothing left and it doesn’t know it?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I’m sorry,” Waverly said, lightly rubbing Nicole’s arm. She had a brief, horrible flashback of the _last_ time she’d seen Nicole fevered and in pain. “I hate seeing you suffer like this.” It was an overreaction, Waverly knew, even as her eyes stung just a little, but the memories of Nicole suffering in the hospital were just too fresh…and so painful.

“You don’t have to stay,” Nicole said immediately. And then, as though she suspected what was bothering Waverly, she added, “I’m not…in danger or anything. I’m just…miserable.”

She pushed away the memories and the lingering guilt. “Nope. Not going anywhere until you’re better.” Waverly leaned forward and this time pressed a playful kiss to Nicole’s nose, but then their eyes met at very close distance and Waverly could feel her own gaze softening.

She was never more frustrated with her own inability to say ‘I love you’ than she was right at this moment. So she tried, looking into Nicole’s slightly fever-glazed eyes from just a couple of inches away, to put every ounce of love she felt in her eyes instead.

Something got through; Nicole’s eyes cleared and softened, and she smiled slightly. “You’re the best,” she whispered.

Waverly shrugged. “Come on. I – ”

Nicole reached out and took her hand. “Waverly, no one’s ever done anything like this for me. Last time I had the flu before I left home, my mom gave me a box of Kleenex and some essential oils, then told me to burn incense in my room to kill the germs. And since then….” She squeezed Waverly’s hand gently. “You are the _best_ , Waverly Earp. You’re the best person I know, you’re the best girlfriend, and you’re definitely the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“That’s the fever talking.”

Nicole’s face fell a little. She pulled her hand away and pushed herself to a seated position. “Please don’t do that.” She reached out and gently tugged a lock of Waverly’s hair. “Please? I’m not…thinking clearly enough to convince you so will you please just take my word for it that I meant every word of that?”

Waverly had to break eye contact for a moment while she collected herself, then squared her shoulders and whispered, “I’ll try.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Nicole began protesting again when she realized Waverly was about to slip under the covers next to her; she was currently in the “freezing cold” stage of her fever and she couldn’t deny that the shared body heat sounded wonderful, but: “Waves, come on. You’re gonna get sick.”

Waverly raised an unusually emphatic hand. “Nicole Haught. My brave, amazing baby. You’re not going to win this one.”

“But – ”

Waverly held her hand up for silence again. “I mean it.” She sat down on the bed next to Nicole and stroked her hair. “I hate seeing you miserable, but it makes me feel better to take care of you because…well, because then maybe you’ll be a little less miserable. Please let me?”

Nicole deflated a bit but still tried one last time, “I just don’t want you to catch this. It’s not exactly a walk in the park.”

This time, Waverly did slip under the covers, saying gently, “You’re worth the risk.”

Despite the fact that Nicole was wrapped in every blanket she owned – which was, Waverly realized now that she was seeing them all at once, a considerably larger number of blankets than she’d had when they’d started dating, and she resolved to thank her for that thoughtfulness later – she was shivering as though she were out in the woods in the depths of winter, even though she was still actually burning up.

Waverly snuggled up as close as she could, wrapping an arm around Nicole from behind.

Nicole looked over her shoulder. “Big spoon? Really?”

Waverly laughed. “Figured I’d compromise. You’re not breathing on me this way. Maybe I’ll escape the germs.”

“Oh, I love you,” Nicole breathed, already halfway on her way to sleep. Waverly gently rubbed her stomach, hoping Nicole could feel the emotion she couldn’t make herself say.

_I love you too_ , she shouted in her head, frustrated beyond belief at her inability to articulate those feelings, at how much she wished she could just…let go of all of her fears and tell Nicole how she really felt.

She took some comfort in knowing that Nicole had to know anyway.

Right?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Nicole woke up, she felt cautiously optimistic. The nausea was gone and although she still definitely had the influenza-flu, that was a definite step up from the horrible combination of both. She felt as though her fever had come down, and though she was still quite congested, not to mention worn out and sore from both the non-stop coughing and the vomiting, it was a definite step up.

She rolled over to see Waverly fast asleep next to her, covered only in a sheet and the hand-knitted afghan her aunt had made for her when she was a baby.

The last thing she remembered was waking up so hot that she couldn’t even stand having the light cotton sheet covering her, which meant that at some time in the last few hours, no doubt during a freezing cold phase of her fever, Waverly had given up all of her blankets to keep Nicole warm.

She hadn’t realized, until Waverly had piled them all up on the bed, exactly how many blankets she’d collected over the past few months for her perpetually cold girlfriend – and here she was, buried under all of them while Waverly made do with a sheet and afghan. Nicole smiled and threaded her fingers through Waverly’s hair. “Hey, sleepyhead…thought I was the one who was supposed to be taking a nap.”

Waverly stretched, then smiled. “Hey. You sound better.”

As though saying it jinxed it, Nicole began coughing. When she caught her breath, she said, “I actually do. I think the throwing up part is over at least.”

Waverly grinned. “Great! I’ll go get you some ginger ale and some crackers!”

Just as Waverly moved to get up, Nicole reached out to pull her into a hug. “Thanks for giving me your bonus blankets.”

“Always.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Nicole went back to work two days later, and she was just thinking that it was a little weird that she hadn’t gotten a good morning text yet from Waverly when she suddenly found herself facing a variety of outraged demon hunters, all of whom were demanding, “What are _you_ doing here?!”

She was so shocked at the vehemence in their voices that the obvious explanation didn’t even occur to her, and she said, “What?”

Wynonna advanced threateningly towards her, Peacemaker in her hand. There was just enough menace in her eyes that, just for a moment, Nicole wasn’t one hundred percent sure she wasn’t about to meet her maker at the barrel of her girlfriend’s sister’s gun. “You got my baby sister sick.”

Nicole automatically raised her hands in an “I’m not armed” gesture. “I told her not to come and then I told her she shouldn’t stay!” Nicole shook her head. “Come on, Wynonna, you know I can’t say no to her. She insisted she wanted to stay, so….”

“Well, you better go take care of her!” Wynonna shot back.

Before Nicole could say anything else, Nedley walked in. “What are _you_ doing here?” he asked.

This time, Nicole just stammered and gestured vaguely behind her towards the still-outraged Wynonna.

He pointed towards them as well. “They said Waverly’s sick.”

“Uh. Yeah?”

“Because she took care of you when you were sick.”

“Uh. Yeah?”

“Go. Lonnie’ll cover for you.”

Well. It was what she had wanted to do anyway. “Thank you, Sheriff.”

The affection and gratitude in her eyes clearly put him off his game. He shrugged uncomfortably. “Get her healthy fast.”

Nicole smiled. “You got it.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sadly, the Pepto thing is based on a real life experience I had the one and only time I've ever had food poisoning (except that instead of being in bed, I for some reason thought that a shower would help...).
> 
> The little blue iguana, on the other hand, is a small tribute to my favorite fanfic writer, whose work I've been reading since the fall of my freshman year of college back in *cough* 1996 *cough*.


End file.
